


leaves

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Series: fictober 2020 [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Flufftober, M/M, Pre-Relationship, even tho this one isn't exactly fluff lmao, watford era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: I don’t much care for autumn. I suppose the weather’s alright, I can finally get away with not sweating through an undershirt and my uniform button-up. But it’s sad, in a way, innit? Autumn is the time of year where everything’s dying.Penny would say I’m being dramatic, probably, if I said any of this to her. Which is why I don’t say any of this to her. Normally I’d say it to Agatha, but she broke up with me. On the equinox, actually. Even my relationships are dying this year.I’ve got no one to say it to, which I think is why I end up saying it to Baz.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow
Series: fictober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949911
Comments: 21
Kudos: 65





	leaves

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this list](https://subpar-selkie.tumblr.com/post/628080856195547136/flufftober-prompts) of flufftober prompts! 
> 
> i'm gonna try to do these every day this month and put them in a collection on here, but i'll probably end up first posting them to tumblr so you can follow me over there, too! 
> 
> [@pipsqueakparker](https://pipsqueakparker.tumblr.com)

**SIMON**

I don’t much care for autumn. I suppose the weather’s alright, I can finally get away with not sweating through an undershirt and my uniform button-up. But it’s sad, in a way, innit? Autumn is the time of year where everything’s _dying_.

Penny would say I’m being dramatic, probably, if I said any of this to her. Which is why I don’t say any of this to her. Normally I’d say it to Agatha, but she broke up with me. On the equinox, actually. Even my relationships are dying this year.

I’ve got no one to say it to, which I think is why I end up saying it to Baz.

“It’s kind of depressing, innit?” I guess I’m technically saying it to the window as I look out into the Wavering Wood. The trees are turning and leaves are already skittering across the grounds. Baz is in our room to hear, though. I almost don’t expect a response.

I’m not surprised by the response I do get.

“What, your life?” He’s still focusing on a page in his book as he says it. He’s so used to throwing insults at me, they must just come up naturally at this point. I wonder if he even realizes he’s said it.

“ _No_ ,” I huff, looking away from him and back out our window. There are a few people out, but most of the students are still in their rooms. I imagine they’re all drinking tea and enjoying the weekend indoors, perhaps doing school work or maybe spending their time with roommates, friends. The grounds look lonely, nothing but a few wandering souls and some dry, fluttery leaves. “This time of year, it’s awfully sad.”

“I think that’s just you, Snow.” Baz does look at me then. I catch the motion in the corner of my eye, glance over just in time to catch his sarcastic smirk. “Year round.”

I huff again, and growl. It’s all I really know to do in response to him sometimes. He’s such an arsehole. “Could at least be a bit kinder, couldn’t you? I’ve just been dumped.”

“Right, of course.” He rolls his eyes. “I heard Wellbelove came to her senses.”

“Have you ever been kind in your life?” I snap. I don’t mean to, but once it’s out it just keeps going. “Are you just a prick to everyone? Aren’t you tired?”

He looks as surprised as I feel. He doesn’t say anything. I lean back against my headboard, ignoring the melancholy atmosphere outside.

“Some roommates are friends, you know?” I mutter, and I’m mostly saying it to myself at this point. “Why’d I have to be stuck with Watford’s biggest arse.”

The room falls into silence for a beat, until.

“The butter.”

I chance a look back at Baz, brows furrowed. Questioning.

“Why you’ve got Watford’s biggest arse? It’s all that butter you eat.”

If we weren’t in our room, I’d’ve already clocked him. As is, I growl again, fists balled in my lap. I can feel myself losing control. Of my temper. Of my magic.

“Okay, Crowley, relax, Snow.” Baz makes an odd choked sound, and I’m almost afraid I’ve accidentally cursed him, until I realize he’s _laughing_. “That was a joke. A fairly good-natured one, I never said having your arse was a bad thing.”

Did Baz just—?

“And I’m… sorry. About Wellbelove.”

I’m not sure what shocks me more, the vague compliment or the word _sorry_ coming out of Baz’s mouth. What is he plotting?

Baz rolls his eyes and I realize I asked that aloud. “You wanted kindness, take it before I think better of it.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re pathetic, Snow, and I feel sorry for you.” Though the words are harsh, there’s not as much venom in his voice as usual. I almost think he means it. (The kindness, that is.) “Fancy some tea?”

“We’ve not got any.” I say. Baz is already on his feet, slipping his shoes and blazer on.

“You’ve got one day of kindness, don’t waste it being stupid.” He starts to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob to look back at me. “Well?”

I look at my wrist, then at the clock once I realize I’ve not got a watch. “It’s not—”

“I know Cook Pritchard, doesn’t matter what time it is.” He explains, exasperated from that simple answer. “Are you coming?”

“Oh— Uh— Y-yeah!” I jump to my feet and fumble for a jacket and shoes. Baz is watching me and I’d almost dare to say he’s doing it _fondly_. Which absolutely couldn’t be right. He must be plotting something, but I think I’m too caught off guard and too desperate for companionship at the moment to care.

Because I go with him, and we sneak into the kitchens for tea and biscuits and sandwiches. We stuff our pockets with bread and fruit and snacks, and we spend the rest of the day _not_ sniping at each other.

It’s the least depressing thing about this year, and I’m surprised to find myself wishing it would last.


End file.
